


Bajoran Springwine

by EnasRoterFaden



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alcohol, Background Relationships, Drunken Confessions, Multi, No Sex, No Smut, but also some friendship, two guys being sad and petty and inappropriate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 00:51:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18063431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnasRoterFaden/pseuds/EnasRoterFaden
Summary: Odo and Quark get drunk, reminiscing about being single.Quark's POV.Set some time between S4E13 „Crossfire“ and S4E16 „Bar Association“.





	Bajoran Springwine

**Author's Note:**

> I know my Odo-science is off, I just needed him to get drunk.

Quark didn’t believe his eyes when he spotted Odo waving at him – from a table at the second floor, sitting alone. He hurried over, worried, ready to make up any lies necessary, his mind racing to figure out which of his recent schemes might have blown up without his noticing. There were a few possibilities, though he really couldn’t think of anything that might prompt Odo to act like a customer.

„And what can I do for you?“ He gripped his empty serving tray, trying to hide his nervousness. „Make it quick, these tables are reserved for _paying_ customers.“

„What makes you think I’m not a paying customer?“

„Look, Constable“, Quark said with a low voice, placing his hand on his chest, „whatever you think I might have done this time, I didn’t do it and you can’t prove anything.“

Odo’s eyelids moved up slightly in an unsuccessful attempt at mimicing the raising of a Hyoo-mon‘s or Bajoran’s eyebrows. „I was merely trying to order a drink, Quark. Or is there something going on that I should be looking into instead?“

„A – a drink?“ Maybe Quark had been a bit too eager to prove his innocence. „I thought you Cha–“

„That is none of your concern. Just get me a small glass of pure alcohol, _please_.“ The way he gave that last word a bite more space, let it linger a bit longer on his tongue, was normal, at least. Normal was good.

„Of course, coming right up.“

There were more important mattersfor Quark to attend to than strange behaving Constables. Like trying to ignore what day it was.

* * *

 

At first Quark assumed Odo was simply doing his dumb trick of shapeshipting a glass in his hand and drinking himself. To trick Quark, maybe. But there he was, head in his hands, his form just a bit too droopy to pass for a solid humanoid, and not paying attention to anything around him. Quark really did not want to know how exactly the Changeling, who was usually so offended by the suggestion to spend some of his latinum on Quark’s menu, was managing to get drunk.

The next time he bothered to check on Odo, he noticed the alcohol glass was full again. He looked at the register but found no second order entered. „Rom!“

„What is it, Brother?“, the other Ferengi asked, shuffling through the door from the storage room.

„Did you forget to charge Odo for his second drink?“

„What second drink, Brother?“

„The one that’s his glass, you idiot!“ Quark threw his hands up in desperation and hurried up the windy stairs to Odo, to figure out which one of his useless employees deserved a pay cut. He really could trust none but himself, and he didn’t even want to think about how many more drinks might have gone unpaid–

He stopped dead  on the last step of the stairs as Odo put the glass to his lips with a heavy hand and drained it in one gulp. The gurgling of the alcohol mixing with Odo‘s liquid insides was clearly audible to Quark from here. Then it became a more rushing sound, like a stream, and then Odo raised his left forefinger over the glass. Quark observed with a newfound interest how the alcohol gushed from the tip of Odo‘s finger. Some unexpectedly filthy thoughts about what else Odo might use this new trick for narrated the whole thing. It was incredibly distracting.

When the glass was full again, Quark let his lobes take over and walked over. „I should still charge you for that, Constable.“

Odo whirled around, his face a faint expression of embarrassment. „D-Don’t sneak up on me like that.“

„Or what? Is walking gracefully now a crime as well?“

Odo rolled his eyes, rolled them actually too far into his head, reminding Quark of a horror vid he’d watched with Morn during a slow night at the bar. He really was drunk! Had Quark known that this was possible, he’d have had a million schemes lined up waiting for a night like this one! But this was so utterly unexpected that all he could do was to say:

„I mean it. We sell the drinks here for one-time-use only. No regurgitation allowed. Or whatever it is you’re doing.“

„A-and I thought you’d be h-h-happy to ... that I spend my first strip of l-latinum in this f-f-filthy bar of yours.“

„Point taken.“ Quark straightened and turned to go. „We’re closing in an hour.“

* * *

 

„Last call!“, Rom announced while Quark was already counting his day’s profits at a side table. There weren’t many customers left: A Bajoran couple, Morn, some Starfleet Ensign who had accidentally started a conversation with Morn and was now listening to the big bulky guy babbling on for two hours straight, and Odo. The couple was starting to get up, Morn and the Ensign were calling for another round.

Quark had already sent home all employees except for his brother, who was wiping the tables.

„Rom, you can finish now. I’ll close up myself.“

„I’m fine with staying longer, Brother, I have nothing else planned.“

Quark eyed Rom and started packing away the cash, since no more of that would be finding its way into his pocket tonight. He could feel it in his lobes. No more profit and no other enjoyable situations would come his way tonight. He just wanted to be alone.

Unexpectedly, Rom picked up on his mood. „Oh. It’s the anniversary, isn’t it?“

„Yes“, Quark said sharply. He didn’t want to talk about it.

„Have you heard anything from Natima lately?“

„No.“

„I’m sure she’s fine, just busy. You know, Brother, I don’t mind if you go ahead and leave early for once. I can close up the bar for you.“

Quark took a second to get his seething anger under controll, and finally faced Rom. „In these rare moments I wonder if you do have the lobes for scheming after all. I’m nearly inclined to see if you’d rob me at blind as my other employees would. _Closing up for me_ ... Pah. Nice try. Now go.“ He shooed him away.

Dax entered shortly before the Ensign had managed to finish his drink and freed him from Morn, with barely a smile and a nod towards Quark. She pulled him out of the bar and towards the lifts. Morn was soon ready to leave as well – something that was unusual, but did become a bit more frequent whenever a certain freighter was docked at the station. Quark muttered to himself, wiping the table after him.

He never expected to be envious of Morn, of all people. Definitely jealous of the unassuming Ensign, though. He absent-mindedly watched a few couples hurrying by, intoxicated from fancy dinner dates or replicated overtime-beers, and ready for intimacy. Maybe that was his problem, maybe he watered down the drinks too much, so the females never got drunk enough around him to take notice?

What a sad thought.

... thinking of which: Quark glanced up at Odo, who hadn’t moved at all in the last half hour, as far as he could tell. It would not be easy, throwing him out. Quark checked the holosuites for forgotten customers, closed up the main entrance, locked away his profits and then took a bottle of Bajoran Springwine and two fresh glasses up to the second floor.

„You know, Constable, as much as you pretend to hate me, you sure do spend a lot of time in my company. Here, try this.“

Odo looked up slowly. „What?“

„Wine. Tastes better than that shit there, and has not yet been filtered a hundred times by your ... body.“

„I don’t have taste.“ His speech had certainly improved since last hour, maybe he was sobering up?

„You certainly don’t. This is still about the Major, isn’t it“, Quark decided and sat down, uncorking the bottle. Cheap off-brand stuff, nearly worse than the replicated version. But Odo wouldn’t know, and Quark was certainly not going to drown his own sorrows in anything expensive – except if he could wear it to business meetings.

„I thought since I can’t annoy you from inside my apartment anymore, I’d show up here instead.“

„Don’t try to fool me, I’ve made business with liars a hundred times better than you. I know what heartache looks like, Constable, no matter the species. And we all deal with it the same way: booze, holosuite programs, dru– other things. Apparently even you liquids.“

Odo didn’t seem like he’d noticed the little slip of the tongue, and took a glass from Quark. „And you know it so well because ... it lines your pockets with latinum?“

„Oh, sure, I’m making a good profit on unrequited love. But I’ve had my fair share of it as well to share the experience.“

„I thought you only loved greed“, Odo murmured and tried the wine carefully. Quark could hear it moving inside him again, it was somewhat unsettling from this close. Though, he thought, it wasn’t much worse than all the sounds humanoid intestines made, just more audible for him.

He filled his glass half full himself and sat back with it in his hands. „You don’t know me half as well as you should, Constable.“

Odo looked up. „Oh. I nearly forgot about that one Cardassian woman. What was her name?“

„Natima“, Quark murmured into the wine.

„Yes. Her. Well, that still is only one example. Though she did love you back, it seemed.“

„She did indeed.“

They sat for a while in silence, Quark slowly emptying his glass, Odo noisily moving the wine around in his body.

„Maybe we’re not made for love. I’m not humanoid or solid enough to attract anyone and you ...“ Odo let the thought dangle in the air for a moment. „You play out of your league.“

Quark knew exactly what Odo had stopped himself from saying. It wasn’t any news. „Aliens just don’t like Ferengi“, he stated. „No, no, don’t try to deny it. People tell me all the time, directly or indirectly. Actually more the former. I think ... our proportions and teeth put you guys off.“ Suddenly his glass was empty and he had to refill it.

„Why not get a Ferengi woman, then? Even Rom seems to have gotten one, at some point in the past at least. And if you like your _females_ naked and submissive–“

„But that’s the problem, Constable!“ Quark slammed the glass back down before flailing his hands. „I don’t want that! I couldn’t show up on Ferenginar with a clothed wife, or one who made money with me. It’d ruin my family!“ He touched his lobe to calm himself down. He didn’t even feel drunk yet, just agitated. „I guess a mix of despair and exposure has turned me into a xenophile. But nobody wants a Ferengi.“

„Well, nobody wants a Changeling either.“

„That’s not true, you had that Troi woman bent around your finger in no time.“

„And I don’t want her just like you don’t want a Ferengi wife.“

Odo ejected the wine, Quark filled up a third time. They sat for a while in silence.

„You know, Constable, maybe we’ve been aiming at the wrong targets. I mean, women are fantastic creatures, but I think I’ve reached a point of desperation where I might as well go for any other gender. I’m pretty sure the Doctor has the hotties for me. That one time, he pretended to pull out a strip of latinum from my ear, and I’ll bet my entire savings he knows that that’s a basic Ferengi porn intro–“

„I don’t need to hear any more of that“, Odo said with a wave of the hand. „But you solids‘ obsession with gender is something else I can’t quite follow. So much of alien cultures are based around genitals or gender expression or some similar arbitrary details. I understand the concept of reproduction, but otherwise it’s a mystery to me.“

„Must be nice, being you.“

„It has its moments. I do somewhat want to experience sexual attraction at least once. To see what the fuss is about.“

Quark filled up both glasses to the edge, and drank the rest of the wine straight out of the bottle before replying: „With that attitude you’re never going to get the Major, Constable. She’s not the type that is content with romantic dinners and spooning. You’d need to–“

„Why do you have to be like th–“

„At least you should figure out if you can do it. Or look for someone else. There are enough asexual humanoids out there that you could find someone in your _league_.“ He nearly spat the last word. The alcohol really was making him petty tonight, but he couldn’t help it, and his mind was racing from one thought to the other. He licked the backside of his teeth. Odo stayed silent, so Quark continued after a moment: „I really don’t understand what you like about that Bajoran. She’s a bossy, angry ex-terrorist, and if you don’t even appreciate her body for its sexual value, I don’t see–“

„Stop talking about her like that!“ Odo had jumped up and slammed his flat hands on the table, spilling wine.

Quark didn’t care anymore. His head was spinning. Wine was dripping slowly onto his trousers, had already soaked his sleeves. The cleaning service would take care of that. „Fine. _Fine_. Now finish your drink, I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow and can’t sit here all night listenting to your unsolvable problems.“

But neither of them was ready to leave.

Next thing they knew, they were searching the storage for Klingon bloodwine, talking about Bashir’s relationships – a better topic than their own – and singing along to a Klingon opera neither of them knew.

* * *

 

„Brother? Brother, are you alright?“ Rom’s voice, obscured slightly by the intercom, broke through the haze and throbbing headache, and pulled Quark out of his sleep.

He stared up at a ceiling that certainly wasn’t anyone’s quarters. No, this was the holosuite, without any program running. He tried moving and promptly knocked over an empty bottle. „I’m fine“, he growled and pushed himself up. „What time is it?“

„0832 hours. I opened the bar already and cleaned up the mess you made last night, but a Bolian trader asked to see you.“

„Fuck!“ Quark jumped up, remembering the meeting he had set up for 0800. He was about to storm out and punish Rom for not waking him earlier, but then looked down at himself and realized he was going to need Roms help if he wanted to get out of here with his dignity intact. His clothes were filthy, and he was quite literally standing in a puddle of- of Odo?

„Odo?“, he asked softly and confused, and step back, away from the gooey mass. „Constable?“

It took a second, then the form pulled itself together and the Changeling stared down at Quark, then their surroundings. „What happened?“

„Alcohol“, Quark guessed. He didn’t dare taking a closer look at the bottles, worried about how much money they drank away.

„You look horrible.“

„Thanks.“

They stared at each other for a few more moments.

„If I pay for half of the damages, will you agree to never speak of this night again?“

Quark pressed his hand against his forehead. He couldn't remember anything after the Klingon Opera, and for the first time he was glad he had not installed highly illegal cameras into the holosuites. Whatever Odo might remember, it probably wasn't worth as much as the latinum he'd save by agreeing to the suggestion. „Deal.“


End file.
